


No Me Without You

by opalmatrix



Category: Saiyuki Gaiden
Genre: Bedside Vigils, Established Relationship, M/M, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: When Kenren is seriously injured, Tenpou comes face to face with his feelings about "that person."
Relationships: Kenren Taishou/Tenpou Gensui
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	No Me Without You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rose Argent (roseargent)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseargent/gifts).



> Beta by the indispensable [**Lady Ganesh**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh).

"Tenpou Gensui! Tenpou Gensui!" 

Whoever was calling him had quite a good set of lungs, Tenpou thought. The voice seemed vaguely familiar, as well. He started to lay his book aside, and then remembered that Kenren had been very firm on the subject of bookmarks. And he was right, of course: the books lasted longer if one was careful about their spines. He finally settled on a note from his desk, written on a torn corner of paper: numbers, but with no other context, they were useless anyway.

Now whoever-it-was was banging on the door to Tenpou's suite. _My goodness._

Tenpou went to answer the door, agilely weaving his way between the piles of books and other detritus of a scholarly existence that had built up since Kenren left on his most recent mission. 

"Tenpou Gensui!" The voice was beginning to sound quite desperate. Tenpou was starting to feel a bit concerned. He unlatched and opened the door, easily side-stepping the man outside, who had at that moment thrown himself at the stout wood. The man staggered but managed to keep his feet as the obstacle was removed.

"Well, then," said Tenpou. "It's Shouei-san, isn't it? Whatever is the matter?"

"Sir, it's General Kenren! He was injured in the last action and is unconscious!"

Shouei was generally a calm, contemplative fellow: characteristics not much on display here. Something within Tenpou that had grown warm and comfortable during the months—or had it become years?—he had known Kenren suddenly became cold and painful. "You had best show me," he said, voice clipped.

"Yes sir! We have him in his room in the barracks!"

Tenpou strode off. The soldier Shouei pulled the door shut and then hurried after him.

_I should never had let that person go off without me! He is far too reckless. It is my business to keep him safe, doubly so because I am his adjutant and should be caring for him._

They went down the steps of the Palace of Celestial Favor at a precipitous pace, hurried along the white stone paths past several gardens, and entered the compound of the First Unit of the Western Army, where two slightly battered-looking sentries bowed them through the gate. More of the unit clustered at the doorway to the barracks. Even in his distracted state, Tenpou found himself mentally counting them off: _Shouei, Soukou, Rihaku … ._

They were all there. That was good. Rikuou, whom Kenren liked and trusted, was sitting in a straight chair in Kenren's room. Kenren was laid out on his sofa—damn the man for refusing a proper bed!—still and pale but for the slight movement of his breathing and the great, broken bruise across one temple and cheek. A light blanket was laid over him, and a long streamer of cloth, perhaps someone's festival sash, had been used to keep the leg that rested near the edge of the sofa from falling off onto the floor

"I suppose there is some good reason for not arranging him on his side, which would allow the sofa to support him more adequately," said Tenpou, marveling at how cold his own voice sounded.

"Yes, Field Marshall. We suspect broken ribs, and he had a separated shoulder on the same side as the bruise on his head. A bed would have been better, but we thought that his familiar surroundings would be helpful when he awoke."

_If he awakes._ The thought came unbidden, and Tenpou felt light-headed. He went over to his friend and lifted the blanket to look. Massive bruises mottled Kenren's entire side. "I'm surprised that his arm seems relatively undamaged. Also, it seems someone has put the shoulder back into place."

"Yes, sir. We wanted to strap his ribs also, but Eizen was more concerned about the head injury and did not want to move him around that much."

"I understand. What about the men that were overwhelmed when the beast came through?"

"A lot of messy injuries, sir, including a couple more knocked out, but they've come around already. Only the general is giving us concern."

_Indeed._ "Thank you, Rikuou. I will watch him now. Please give the men my best and look after them."

"Sir,"said Rikuou, saluting. He went out, closing the door behind him.

Tenpou dimmed all the lights but one beside Kenren's head. He considered putting on some music, but was not sure he could make the stereo apparatus work. He tried sitting in the chair Rikuou had vacated, but it was not very comfortable, so he sat on the floor by the sofa.

They were gods. They were immortal unless given a killing blow that caused their spirits to exit their physical bodies. Kenren was still breathing. He would heal.

Wouldn't he?

_Is this what mortals feel, when someone they care for is at the brink of death? This sense of chaos, this lack of a center, as though the fragile life before them had all the impermanence of a cherry blossom? This yawning, icy cavern in my chest, as though his warm presence had already been withdrawn?_

Who had he been before Kenren came to him? The field marshal with the pretty face, the scholar who couldn't keep his room or his person clean, the deadly swordsman who was nothing but an empty shell.

His eyes were mesmerized by the slight rise and fall of Kenren's abdomen under the pale, soft blanket. He found himself breathing along with that person, _huff … huff._ Why could he not give some of his life to this precious being? _What is the good of our being gods? Can anyone tell me?_

The last of the daylight faded from the windows. It was night in heaven, the weather perfect, of course. The stars would be shining, the moon following the same orderly passage as always. Rain only fell when it was most appropriate. Weather, the celestial bodies, the gods themselves: everything was neat and tidy and boring as death. Why were they even alive?

He had never been so undone in his entire immortal existence. He had never had such thoughts before, not even when he considered the sinister implications of what he had been discovering about the increase in monsters, the story of the strange boy Kanzeon Bosatsu had consigned to Konzen Douji, or the nature of the war god Nataku. None of these signs of impending disaster had moved him this way.

He counted his general's slight breaths in an effort to govern the wild beast of his own mind: _1, 2, 3 … ._

Somewhere north of one thousand, Tenpou fell asleep.

He came awake to a sore neck and a stiff back. Pale lemon light was shining gently through the drawn window shades. Perhaps it was Kenren's breathing that had wakened him, deeper breaths with little moans threaded through them.

Tenpou knelt up and looked at his general's face in the light of dawn and the single lamp. There was a more healthy color in it, where it wasn't bruised, and Kenren was frowning and wincing in his sleep. The bruises had evolved, taking on the unpleasant shades of yellow and green that signified progress toward healing. "Kenren," said Tenpou. "Can you hear me?"

Kenren's mouth worked, as though it were dry and tasted bad. "Yeah," he breathed. "Ow, my head is killin' me, Tenpou."

Warmth flooded Tenpou's chest, as though the rising sun were gently touching him. Kenren could think, could recognize him. He was healing. He would be himself again.

Now, he could even feel a little foolish that he had ever doubted it.

Kenren's eyelids crinkled, and his eyes opened. He blinked at Tenpou as though seeing him for the first time, and then his expression changed to wonder and confusion in equal measure. "Why are you making that face?" he asked.

'Sh-shut up," said Tenpou, surprising himself with his own brusqueness. "Just stop talking."

"Eh, OK," said Kenren and closed his eyes again.

Tenpou sank down again and bowed his head, overwhelmed with relief. He should be getting Kenren some cool tea and maybe headache powders. He should be getting one of the men to help him strap up Kenren's ribs, now that he was out of danger. But for the moment, all he could do was listen to those full breaths, drawing strength from them despite the occasional whimper.

WIthout opening his eyes, Kenren reached over with his good arm and threaded his long fingers through Tenpou's hair.


End file.
